


Serenity.mp3

by windycockslap (jumpsoap)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Aftercare, BSDM, Caning, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Name-Calling, Risk Aware Consensual Kink, Rope Bondage, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-09 11:15:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13480338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jumpsoap/pseuds/windycockslap
Summary: While Ignis has a stressful life, Prompto is a willing outlet for his tension.





	Serenity.mp3

**Author's Note:**

> I've noticed that a lot of fic featuring BDSM, with exceptions of course, focuses primarily on what the submissive person gets out of such a dynamic, so although this piece is also from the perspective of the submissive character (Prompto), I tried to portray here the satisfaction & benefit that can come from domination and sadism as well. 
> 
> If you'd like a more thorough warning or description of the content, please feel free to get in touch with me on tumblr (jumpsoap or jumpsoap-backroom), discord, or kik (windycockslap). 
> 
> [And here's the playlist I imagine they've got playing.](https://open.spotify.com/user/spotify/playlist/37i9dQZF1DWUraJYejk11q?si=NIUFxOJrSCCRuPGIz1PVVQ) It's pretty good music to get tied up to, if you can keep a straight face through the Nintendo samples ;)

“Are you going to hurt me?” Prompto murmured, shifting against his bonds.

Ignis lifted the blindfold from his face and cupped his chin with a warm, gloved hand. “Do you want me to?” he asked.

Prompto had been waiting, kneeling on the bed with his wrists tied to his ankles, for what could have been five minutes or two hours. Soft, shifting music, playing from the speaker on the bedside table, had muddled his perception of time and muffled the sounds of Ignis working in the next room, the ridges of the ropes against his skin and fingertips giving him just enough to focus on that everything else faded away.

He gazed into Ignis’s eyes now, green and narrow, looked over his lovely face, and Ignis studied him in return. They both wanted this. He was here for Ignis to hurt; his response would simply set the tone. 

“Yes,” he said. 

Ignis kissed him, hot and passionate, and Prompto responded in kind until a loose hand at his throat reminded him of his place, and he let his mouth go slack as Ignis continued to explore him with his tongue and lips. 

Kissing Ignis was always good, but there was something to it that made Prompto feel almost drunk when he was tied and held by the throat, stunned into submission by these small gestures.

Finally Prompto had to turn away to breathe, and he was embraced as Ignis reached around to undo the knots linking his wrists and ankles. Panting, Prompto leaned forward into the warmth and scent of his shirt, tilting his head to let Ignis mouth at his throat around the collar there. 

Although his hands were loose now, the ropes draped over his legs, he held his position, waited for Ignis to take him and move him how he wanted. It had taken several session for him to learn this, to overcome his instinct to surge into action whenever able, eager to please. He could practically feel the satisfaction radiating off Ignis as he gripped Prompto’s forearms and pulled them around to his lap between them.

Ignis took a moment to inspect his hands, rubbing at the indentations left by the ropes and squeezing his fingertips before positioning him for another tie – arms crossed over his chest, palms on his shoulders. He untied Prompto’s ankles, as well, and then began to bind him again.

The thick rope shuddered against the ring in his collar as Ignis drew it through slowly. Prompto closed his eyes and focused on the music again, letting himself become disoriented. He sighed as he settled further onto his legs on the bed. His core was beginning to ache from sitting up like this for so long, but it wasn’t much later that Ignis finished securing the ropes around him and urged him down onto his back, pulling his legs straight atop the bed.

He tilted his head back and looked down the length of his own body, feeling like some kind of ancient statue with his arms folded atop his chest like this; Ignis was touching him now, gloved palms running warm and smooth over him, fingers slipping in between the ropes and his bare skin.

Then Prompto was rolled over onto his front, Ignis’s hands continuing their exploration of his body, making little adjustments to his position. They made their way down his back to sweep over his butt and down his legs, the mattress dipping as Ignis moved around. 

“You’re so good,” Ignis said, breaking through the quiet lull of music and breathing and fabric shifting that had filled the room. “So patient, so soft.” His hands swept back up to dig fingertips into his hips. 

The praise washed over Prompto, an immediate and instinctive rush of guilt in its wake. He closed his eyes, letting himself feel it, held the pain in his heart, while reminding himself that it didn’t matter that he thought it wasn’t true, that he was no good at all. Ignis wanted to tell him he was good, so it would be wrong to argue. 

“You’re going to take this spanking for me, aren’t you?” Before Ignis had even finished asking, his hand came down on Prompto’s backside. “Be a good boy?” 

It was more loud than painful, and Prompto relaxed at that first stinging impact. 

Ignis soothed a palm over his skin for a moment before lifting his hand and striking him again, harder this time. “That’s it.” 

The ache of guilt and shame and inadequacy in Prompto’s chest gradually blurred away, overtaken or subsumed by the physical pain of Ignis’s palm falling repeatedly against his ass, harder and faster, the sound of it ringing in his ears and drowning out his thoughts.

The spanking stopped when Prompto felt himself beginning to sweat, and Ignis’s hand slipped between his thighs to fondle his cock and balls. 

“Can you take the cane?” Ignis asked, wrapping a smooth, firm hand around his balls.

“Yes.” Anything, he would take absolutely anything for Ignis. He could hear the slight tremble in Ignis’s voice, hope and weariness. 

“Beg for it,” Ignis told him, voice clearer and louder. A command.

Prompto loved to hear that tone of voice. “Please, sir, please, use your cane on me. I want it,” he said, letting a whine creep into his voice. “I need it.  _ Please _.” 

Ignis left the bed abruptly, and Prompto was alone for several long moments, floating with the slight rocking of the mattress. When Ignis returned, he shifted Prompto’s legs tighter together and then stepped back.

The tip of the cane touched Prompto’s shoulder, and he let out a long breath. It almost tickled as it travelled down his back, then back up.

When Ignis began to strike him with the cane, he started, not on his buttocks, but on his shoulders, almost gentle taps that left his skin feeling warm.

The strokes grew harder, more purposeful, and Prompto felt himself tensing up under them, back curling. A hiss escaped his teeth, and Ignis paused, pressing the cane flat across his back until he relaxed. 

The cane moved firmly down Prompto’s back, its surface rough, and he settled down underneath it, breathing deeply in the scent of the sheets. 

Again the cane left him, and again Ignis began to whip him with it, the stinging strikes coming down on his ass this time, where he was already worked over from the spanking. Ignis increased the intensity more slowly this time, and soon Prompto was sweating again, the repeated impacts of the cane across his ass gradually making him numb. 

It began to feel good, a kernel of pleasure inside the pain that he focused on, each tap of the cane sparking a jolt of pleasure in his groin. He groaned, drool slipping out of his mouth to pool between his cheek and the sheets. 

Ignis didn’t hesitate; he placed a hand on the small of Prompto’s back, pressing him down into the mattress. The cane came down on Prompto’s increasingly sensitive skin relentlessly, until he sobbed aloud and writhed under the hand holding him. 

It ended, then, leaving Prompto shuddering and panting against the damp sheets. He was rolled onto his back again, blinking tears out of his eyes, trying to make out the blurred shape above him.

Ignis swiped his finger through the precum oozing from Prompto’s dick and examined it on his gloved fingertips for a moment. Then he reached up and ran his finger through the drool on Prompto’s chin and lips, leaving the taste of precum and leather to linger in Prompto’s mouth.

“Slut,” Ignis called him, towering over the bed with the cane still in his hand. 

The tears were spilling down Prompto’s face; they seeped into the hair framing his face, already saturated with sweat. His whole body was slick with it, and his breath shuddered in and out of him. 

It still wasn’t quite enough. He hadn’t done enough, hadn’t given enough to Ignis to feel adequate. But he couldn’t take much more pain, and they both knew it. He lifted his head up and tilted his face toward Ignis, begging him silently.

Ignis recognized the signal. His hand was in Prompto’s hair, holding him still, and he slapped him, hard, right across the face.

Then he shucked off his pants and climbed on top of him, straddling his chest and bound arms, pushing his cock into Prompto’s face. He took himself in one hand and gripped Prompto’s hair again with the other.

Prompto went slack, only having the presence of mind to turn his eyes downward, gazing cross-eyed down at the head of Ignis’s cock, the foreskin bunching up around the wet tip as Ignis worked himself in short, hard pumps. Prompto’s own dick jumped between his legs, full and hard now after flagging during his beating. 

He let his mouth fall wide open, but Ignis snapped, “No. Shut your mouth.” His grip in Prompto’s hair tightened painfully, and Prompto closed his mouth but kept his eyes open in spite of the pain and in spite of what he knew was coming. He wanted to watch Ignis’s face as he peaked, hair hanging down around his eyes, mouth open, lips twisting with undignified ecstasy.

Prompto got to see it, awe spreading through his chest at the sight of his lover coming undone, but he paid the price; hot release shot across his face, the smell of it so strong that some must have gone up his nose. He had to squeeze his eyelids shut, resisting the urge to try to blink it out of his eyes.

Above him, Ignis breathed heavily, his grip loosening on Prompto’s hair as his weight settled more heavily on his chest. Prompto made no move to rush him, but in time, Ignis raised himself up again and touched Prompto’s cheek, a preface to the handful of tissues he used to wipe off the drying cum. 

Prompto cracked an eye open to admire the post-orgasmic look on Ignis’s face while he cleaned him up. 

“Alright?” Ignis murmured, making another pass at his cheek with the tissues. When Prompto nodded, he asked, “Do you want to be set free? No? You want to get off like this, do you?” He tossed the tissues aside. 

“Please?” Prompto said, gazing plaintively up at him.

Ignis’s smile and chuckle were warm. “Of course. Anything you want.” His expression smoothed out, lips falling open as he turned his attention to Prompto’s body and slowly divested himself of his silver gloves. 

It sent an extra thrill through Prompto to be gazed upon in such a tender way, and although he had thought himself both spent and excruciatingly wound up, the tension began to bleed away, the room seemed to dim and soften. 

Hands now bare, Ignis pressed the flat of his palm to the underside of Prompto’s cock, rubbing him like that, coaxing him toward an orgasm that built and built before surging through Prompto’s body down to his toes and up to the roots of his hair, a feeling that he'd never had the patience to reach on his own, before Ignis had started tying him up. 

It left him breathless, heart knocking against his ribs as he came back to himself.

Ignis had already wiped away Prompto’s release and was fingering his ropes again, stroking the skin underneath where it was tender and soft. “Now?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Prompto croaked, and Ignis began to undo the harness he had woven together. 

When he was done and the ropes were piled on the floor, Ignis cradled Prompto’s face in his bare hands. “Do you want to shower?” he asked.

Prompto shook his head. “You go ahead.” Ignis left him with a quick kiss, and Prompto stretched out mightily in his absence.

He luxuriated in the smell of sex and the humidity of the sheets, listening to the shower begin to run and the music continue to play. He was grateful that Ignis didn’t insist that he wash it all off right away, even if he himself preferred to bathe immediately.

He must have drifted off waiting for Ignis to return; the click of a glass of water being set down on the bedside table and the creaking and dipping of the mattress as Ignis climbed into bed roused him. He was dressed in soft pajamas, hair down and falling into his eyes.

“Let’s get a look at you,” Ignis said, urging Prompto to turn back over onto his stomach.

“Mm,” Prompto responded hazily, breathing deeply of the smell of Ignis’s soap as damp hands touched his back. 

“Nothing too bad,” Ignis concluded, “But remember to wash up thoroughly when you do get a chance to bathe.”

“Yes, sir,” Prompto said, glancing over his shoulder with a smirk. “You really went to town on me.” 

Ignis looked a little abashed, but he smiled back. “Yes, well. It’s been a rather long week, I have to say.” 

“Feeling any better?” 

Ignis laid down beside Prompto and gathered him into his arms. “Much better,” he sighed, working his fingertips into Prompto’s hair, scratching at his scalp. “And you? You’re feeling alright? You liked it?”

“Fantastic,” Prompto assured him, speaking indistinctly into the fabric of Ignis’s shirt, already drifting off again. “I loved it.”

Ignis switched off the light, and Prompto fell asleep gradually and gently, quiet words spoken between them petering out until only the music and the sound of their long, even breaths could be heard. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm trying to work on making my narration more emotive and descriptive! What do you think? As always, criticism and commentary are welcome.


End file.
